


a case of do or die

by imaginedfables



Series: here's looking at you, kid [1]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: AU, F/M, I named him Miguel, and I will fight you on it, and attitude, and is totally in this thing now, because i live for that, because sass, because when are the geckos not criminals, because when is she not, drunk!seth, edna makes an appearance, fluff and snark basically, kate is still done with the geckos, seth's new bff is too pure for this world, that's only half an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedfables/pseuds/imaginedfables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go away, Seth,” she demands, just loud enough to be heard through the door but – hopefully – not down the hall. “I don’t want to see you right now.”</p>
<p>“Baby,” he calls back, completely ignoring her request because when does he ever do anything he’s asked to? Yeah, that’s right. Never. “Baby, I love you.”</p>
<p>She groans, fingers curling into fists because of course – of course – the asshole decided to show up drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a case of do or die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alwaysupatnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysupatnight/gifts).



> Title comes from Casablanca, which is a cinematic masterpiece. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a 500 word, cutesy drabble that came from Ashley's story about her neighbors, and it quickly turned into a 4000 word monstrosity. 
> 
> I blame her for encouraging this. And Stacey who didn't dissuade me, either.   
> Bring the pitchforks.
> 
> To clarify:  
> Miguel/Mickey - Seth's new bff from the season 3 premiere.   
> Edna - Maid from the Dew Drop Inn who had sass for days.

_The world will always welcome lovers._

**As Time Goes By**

…

So, she’s fully aware that she’s made a couple of stupid mistakes in her life.

Yes, okay.

She’s mature enough to admit to them.

Most are forgivable – things like listening to Jessica when she’d told her she looked good in the bright orange prom dress she’d bought on a whim, dating Kyle for two whole years before she realized it was the equivalent of kissing her brother, and trusting Scott when he promised her he would drop off the letter for Student Housing in the post office.

Turns out, orange is so _not_ her color, boys are _not_ impressed when you dump them the week before Valentine’s Day, and the tiny apartment her Daddy had to rent out for her in Houston while she attended university came with a monthly reminder that brothers should _never_ be trusted to complete the most _minimally_ significant errands.

Her greatest mistake, though?

Somehow managing to kid herself into believing the man she’d been dating for six months – who was ten years her senior and should _damn-well_ know better – was mature enough to handle Sunday Dinner with her father.

Yeah, definitely not her brightest moment.

…

It’s ten-past midnight on a Wednesday night, she’s got half a carton of Ben & Jerry’s, her favorite nightshirt on, and _Casablanca_ playing while she sprawls out on her comfy green sofa and wraps herself in the quilt her Grandma June gifted her the day she was born.

It should, for all intents and purposes, feel like a perfect night.

Except, she’s got eight missed calls on her phone and twice as many messages ignored.

Every single one of them, save the two from Scott making sure that she got home alright, are from the same asshole.

She’s not going to answer.

There is absolutely no power on Earth that will make her put up with him for one more second tonight after the mortification he’d just put her through. The bastard was lucky if she ever gave him the time of day again. He had absolutely no right to demand her attention with half-hearted semi-apologies that sounded a lot more like excuses and accusations than anything else.

Kate is going to sit here and she’s going to enjoy her ice cream and she’s not going to feel guilty about the sting of jealousy that stabs through her gut as she watches Rick and Ilsa sway along to _As Time Goes By_.

Rick Blaine was the perfect man.

Seth Gecko, on the other hand, was not.

Kate pouts, grabbing for another spoonful of ice cream and shoving it into her mouth with all the grace of a toddler while she sulked about the injustice of it all.

There’s really nothing quite as great for your self-esteem as a one-woman pity-party when you were feeling down in the dumps about your shitty love life.

She’s just gotten to the part where Ilsa confesses her love to Rick after having pointed a gun at him and threatened to shoot him only thirty seconds before, and Kate can feel her own eyes filling with tears because _of_ _course_ that that’s the type of girl she is; the kind that cries with black  & white films and can quote the entire thing verbatim and plays the soundtracks while drinking coffee in the morning, when a loud knock on her door breaks her out of her melancholic daze.

Actually, it’s not so much a knock, as much as a _thud_ as a body slides against the wooden door and lands on the floor, which is very quickly followed by a hissed out “ _son of a bitch_!”

She could recognize that voice anywhere.

Kate snaps her eyes shut, refusing to give into temptation and open the door – if for nothing else but to scold him for the scene he is most likely going to cause, as if the one he and her dad had pulled in the restaurant wasn’t enough to last her an entire lifetime or two.

That place had the best Filet Mignon in the state and she could never show her face there again.

The injustice was real.

“Go away, Seth,” she demands, just loud enough to be heard through the door but – hopefully – not down the hall. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Baby,” he calls back, completely ignoring her request because _when_ does he ever do anything he’s asked to? Yeah, that’s right. _Never_. “Baby, I love you.”

She groans, fingers curling into fists because of course – _of course_ – the asshole decided to show up drunk.

The last thing she’s about to do is put up with his drunk ass and she _swears_ that if he throws up on her front step she’s going to call the cops on him for public intoxication, consequences be damned.

“Leave.”

“Princess, don’t be like that,” he whines, and Kate doesn’t have to see him to _know_ that he’s pouting and doing that stupid thing with his eyebrows that makes him look so _pathetic_ she always caves. “I’m not even mad you took the car.”

“Oh,” she scoffs, glaring at him through the wall and if looks could kill, her idiotic lover would be long gone by now. “It gives me so much peace to know you’re not angry because I left your ass in a five-star restaurant after you embarrassed me in front of my family and about a hundred other people. Really, I can finally sleep now.”

She pauses, suddenly remembering the fact that, _yes_ , she had taken his keys so she could drive herself home when she walked out on them which meant that he’d either gotten a taxi here or someone else had brought him. Given how much time has passed since she got home, it doesn’t particular take a genius to figure it out.

She knows him well-enough to already know the answer.

There’s only one person Seth trusts enough to drag him out of whatever messed he dived headfirst into.

“Miguel,” she calls out. “Please tell me you didn’t just completely break our bond by dumping this jerk on my doorstep when he knows full-well that I don’t want to see him.”

A silent beat, and then:

“Ms. Kate,” his smooth voice answers, only the slightest hints of an accent noticeable to her trained ear. “El Jefe, he is sorry.”

The betrayal is real.

“Miguel, _no_!” it’s her turn to whine now, and – just for the record – she hates the fact that _this_ is what Seth Gecko reverted her back to sometimes: a whiny and dramatic teenager who argues with her man-child of a boyfriend through closed doors in the middle of the night. The neighbors probably hated her. “Take him home! Or don’t. Call Richie and let his ass deal with him.”

Honestly, she doesn’t care.

And, if bad turns to worst, she’s got Kisa on speed dial.

Kisa, who would no doubt enjoy every second of kicking Seth’s ass back to his own apartment.

And then come back to drag her off to a strip club for a much-deserved Girl’s Night.

Maybe she should give her a call anyways.

“Mickey, you gotta convince her to let me in,” Seth tries to whisper, no doubt his attempt at being sly, but he’s too wasted to control his tone and she can hear him clear as day. “Tell her what a fucking catch I am.”

“Oh, yes,” Miguel agrees, and Kate doesn’t bother fighting the smile that blooms on her face at the sarcasm in his voice. “Too drunk on cheap tequila to even stand while you brood at her door and whine for her to let you in. You’re the catch of the century, Jefe.”

“Hey! The tequila was top-shelf, thank you very fucking much,” Seth defends himself, because apparently that was the most important point made. “And you’re the one who brought me here, dipshit.”

“You promised me the weekend off if I did,” he replies, and Kate doesn’t know what’s wrong with her to find nothing to be offended over in this conversation. At least somebody got something good out of the night. “And bought me shots while you got wasted. It feels like the most expensive ride in Uber history for you and I’m cashing out on it.”

Seth curses underneath his breath.

“Can you at least like, _pretend_ , you’re on my side, here?” he groans. “Earn your keep, amigo.”

She hears one of them sigh in annoyance, most likely Miguel.

“Querida, _please_ let him in.”

She doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Nope.”

“There,” Miguel declares. “I tried.”

“You’re like, the worst fucking friend I’ve ever had, man,” Seth accuses, splashing around in the pool of self-pity they all know he doesn’t really feel. “I swear, you used to be the best until she got her claws into you and now it’s like I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

His younger counterpart sighs, and Kate is willing to bet her life away that whatever he’s about to say will not be good for her boyfriend’s ego.

“I’m always on your side, hermano,” Miguel explains. “But we all know that she’s the real boss now.”

“That’s just,” Seth stutters, for once in his life lost for words and blaming the alcohol, no doubt. “That’s just so fucking rude, Mickey.”

“But true,” he counters. “Even Richie does what she tells him to.”

“Only because she told him she was going to bible-thump his ass back to Kansas if he didn’t.”

She laughs.

She can’t help it.

It’s loud, and both men fall silent when they hear her.

Kate clears her throat, giving up on getting rid of them for the night.

“Okay, well, this has been fun,” she says, double checking her doors are locked – which is sort of ridiculous and unnecessary, given that Seth has made it his point to show off how quickly he can pick any lock in his path – and grabbing for her pillows. “I’m going to bed now. Either go home or feel free to sleep on the hallway.”

“Goodnight,” Miguel answers back, at the same time that Seth bangs his fist on the door and yells “Kate! C’mon! I’m not leaving!”

Honestly, she’s okay with leaving him there.

The bastard deserved worse than not getting what he wanted for the first time in who knows how long; he could sleep off his booze in the hallway for all she cared. All her neighbors knew who he was and she was pretty sure nobody would actually call the police on him if he slept there, and if they did, well, he and his brother had more than enough money to post bail.

And it’s not like Miguel would ever let Seth get into any actual trouble if he could help it.

Kate knew that, all his sarcasm aside, the younger man would stick by her boyfriend’s side through thick and thin. The two had a bond that was very hard to even rattle, and she considered herself fortunate to find a similar friendship in him.

Miguel would _never_ tell her to wear an orange dress.

Anyways, she’s completely set on calling it a night and heading off to bed, except, she can hear the loud squeak as her neighbor’s door opens, which is quickly followed by:

“What in God’s name is going on out here?”

Oh, no.

It’s Mrs. Edna.

The old woman had made it her point to express her dislike for her Seth since the first day she saw him walking into her apartment, and it had not helped matters at all when she’d caught them in a very intense and ‘inappropriate for shared hallways’ make-out session just a few days later.

_‘That man is a handsome devil,’_ she’d warned her, cornering her in the basement while she did her laundry the following weekend. _‘And if you’re smart you’ll leave him before he drags you down to hell with him, sweetheart.’_

All in all, not the most encouraging advice she’d received about her relationship, but also not the worst.

That title belonged exclusively to Ranger Gonzalez, who’d told her, and she quotes:

_‘Jesus Christ, Kate, quit hanging out with those brothers and their crew before someone makes me come down to the morgue to identify your body.’_

That was Freddie for ya; always ready with a morbid and melodramatic comment to hand out.

It was probably best not to inform Freddie of how serious their relationship had gotten.

“What do you want now, you old hag?” Seth sneers, making his contempt for the woman obvious. And, dammit, the last time he and Edna had gotten into an argument it’d taken Sergeant Frost – the neighbor from two doors down – showing up in his pajamas and with a baseball bat in hand to break them up and send each down their own way. “Can’t you see you’re interrupting me while I have a discussion my girl?”

“Leave that girl alone, ya ingrate,” she can hear the older woman answer. “Don’t you know to take the hint when someone is done with you?”

“You must have a lot of experience in that field, right, Edna?” he mocks, but she can pick up the weariness in his voice. Edna’s words got to him, whether he wants to admit it or not, and Kate feels every instinct inside of her itching to open the door and intervene on his behalf, but she won’t. Not yet. “Living up here, all by your lonesome.”

Edna doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re the one that’s sitting on the floor and talking to the door.”

He was not going to appreciate that comment.

“Jefe, don’t you think that maybe right now isn’t the best time to pick a fight?”

Miguel tries to break up the tension, but they all know it’s pretty much useless once the other two get started.

Seth ignores him, which – really – big shocker there.

“I don’t see people tripping over themselves to knock on your door.”

“Better on my own than in bad company,” she answers right back. “And I know a criminal when I see one. Why don’t you go back to robbing liquor stores and let that little girl get on with her life in peace so she can find someone her own age who deserves her.”

“She’s not a little girl,” Seth snaps, and, okay, it is most _definitely_ time to intervene now. Things are getting a little bit too out of hand for comfort, and Kate, as angry as she may be with her boyfriend, is not about to leave him on his own to walk into a mess he can’t get out of. She opens the door right on time to hear his very offended, “And I have never robbed a liquor store in my life.”

“Yeah, and I’m Mother Theresa.”

“Try more like Federal Banks, Grandma!”

“Okay!” Kate cuts them all off, grabbing onto Seth’s arm and doing her best to pull him back up on his feet and into her apartment before he can say anything else to further incriminate himself. Miguel catches on quickly enough, because he’s stepping forwards to help her out and drag Seth back until he can drop him on her sofa while she tries to calm Edna down. “I’m so sorry about him! I promise he won’t bother you anymore.”

“Hmm,” she grunts, and Kate can read the dissatisfaction on her face. “I thought you’d finally come to your senses and gotten rid of him.”

“Not quite yet,” she tries, and miserably fails, to joke it off. She knows, that in her own way, the other woman was just trying to look out for her, as misplaced and misguided as her concern may be. “I know he’s an idiot but I promise he’s a good guy who treats me right underneath all the sarcasm,” she tries to pacify her concerns. “Have a goodnight, Edna.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves her off, pursing her lips in disapproval before heading back into her own apartment and shutting the door shut behind her. Kate sighs, doing the same, except that instead of an empty room, she’s got her boyfriend slumped over on her couch and his best friend cozying up with her abandoned carton of ice cream on her recliner.

“That old broad lost her goddamned mind.”

Of course he’s going to complain about her right now, as if he was a completely innocent bystander caught in the fire instead of the one lighting the match.

“And you’re a jerk for picking a fight with an old lady,” Kate snaps. “You do remember that I have to see her every day, right? Or did the tequila wipe out your memory already?”

“She started it,” he mopes, pulling the blanket up to his chin and kicking off his shoes.

She wants to demand to know just what he thinks he’s doing, getting comfortable when it’s so obvious that she’s still ready to argue with him for the rest of the night, but decides against it before the first word can leave her mouth.

Because he’s inside her house, lounging on her couch, and he knows he’s won.

Asshole.

“I’m still mad at you,” she sniffs, resigning herself to her fate and dropping her weight on the couch besides him. In one of her pettier moments, she snatched the blanket out of his arms and sticks her tongue out at him when he lets out a protest. “And you’re so _not_ sleeping on my bed tonight. Feel free to cuddle up with Humphrey Bogart and the cushions.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” he grumbles, loosening his tie and throwing it onto her coffee table before he starts to work on the buttons for his dress-up shirt. “It wasn’t even that bad!”

“You told my father he could take his condescending cross and shove it up his ass.”

From his side on the recliner, Miguel snorts and does his best to quickly cover it up as he contemplates the situation. Finally, he reaches his verdict.  

“That was a little much,” he shrugs, nodding along in agreement.

The look of absolute _offence_ on Seth’s face is pretty much priceless.

“He said he wouldn’t let me pay with _blood money_ when I tried to front the bill and then he called me a _criminal!_ ”

“You _are_ a criminal!”

“Hey! You’re only one if you get caught! We’re still 27 for 27!”

Kate groans in annoyance, then turns to look at Miguel’s handsome face, which looks only too amused at their petty arguments. “Why didn’t I date you instead?”

“The stars were not in our favor that night,” he laments, making a fist and holding it to his heart before he shrugs. “And Seth made me stay behind to wait for a delivery he was supposed to receive while he made a burger run and met you on the way.”

“It really isn’t fair is it?” she sighs, grabbing for his hand and doing her best to hide her smile when Seth groans in complaint from his side of the couch. “Maybe we should ditch this jerk and run away together. I bet we’d make a killing living like Bonnie & Clyde.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” he reassures her. “I know where he keeps his money.”

“You two are officially the worst fucking people in the world,” Seth sulks at their little play, grabbing for a cushion and launching it at Miguel’s face, who only has to bend his head out of the way to avoid impact. “And Richie’s my brother, so that’s saying something.”

“Would you take me to be a beach?” she questions, widening her eyes as much as she possible can and allowing a dreamy tone to flow into her voice. “He keeps promising he’s gonna take me to one but the closest we got was the Dew Drop Inn before he made us turn back.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Richie’s piss-poor people skills almost cost us a thirty-mil deal.”

They both ignore him.

“Princesa, I would take you wherever your heart desires,” he vows, and Kate’s using all her self-control to keep a straight face at the pretend vigor in his words. “All you have to do is say the word.”

Apparently, Seth’s tolerance for their ribbing of him has run out.

“Alright, that’s enough from you two,” he snaps, lifting himself off the couch and pointing an accusatory finger in his friend’s direction. “And you, don’t you _princesa_ my princess or I’m gonna go tell Peaches about that hard-on you’ve had for her since last month. Got it, kid?”

Miguel laughs it off, and then lifts their still-clasped hands and presses a chaste kiss to her fingertips. “Ms. Kate, it seems our love is not meant to be.”

“Maybe in another life,” Kate sighs in faux melancholy, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “But in this one, I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch at Jeds. And bring Linda! I may or may not have heard from a little bird that she’s totally got a crush on someone I know!”

She doesn’t miss the bright blush that blooms on her friend’s attractive face any more than the smirk that settles on Seth’s lips now that the flame has been passed on to a new contender.

“Thanks for the ride, Mickey,” Seth calls out, who nods and waves them goodbye before quietly exiting her home and heading off to his own for the night.

And now they’re alone.

“So,” Seth starts, slipping off his shirt before he settles back down on her sofa, except this time he’s resting his head on her lap and staring straight up at her as he reaches for her hands and pulls them to his chest while he massages her knuckles. “What’s it gonna take for you to forgive me?”

“An apology would be a pretty good start.”

“Does it have to be heartfelt?”

Kate grins. “Preferably.”

Seth sighs, taking a deep breath and pushing aside his emotional constipation just long enough to give an honest shot at fixing his relationship.

Because it _really_ is that hard for him.

“I’m sorry that I got drunk and embarrassed you,” he apologizes. “And I promise that’ll I’ll try to be nicer to your dad when we head over to his house for Thanksgiving Dinner?”

Kate pauses, angling her head so she can get a better look at his face and search it for any hints of deceit. Her heart swells when she doesn’t find any, and she knows what it must be costing him to make this promise.

Especially since the whole reason tonight’s dinner even happened had been his attempt at compromising having to spend the holidays with her family back in Bethel.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he scoffs. “I love you, Kate, and that’s not gonna change – even if your old man would pay to see me dead.”

“Yeah, he really doesn’t like you,” she agrees, before cringing at the reality of that statement. “But I really do.”

“So, am I forgiven?”

And Kate’s seriously gotta work on not melting and blushing like a school girl every time he flashes her that stupid grin.

“Mostly,” she relents. “But you’re still not getting me into bed tonight.”

He laughs, before reaching up to tug at the hem of her nightshirt. “Big words from a girl who’s not wearing any pants to start off with.”

“You’re such a perv,” Kate rolls her eyes, batting his hands away before settling with one hand on his chest and the other playing softly with his hair. “And I love you.”

 “Can’t I at least get a kiss?”

“Nope,” she pops her lips, reaching for the discarded control to press Play on her movie and smiling at the pout on his face. “But if your drunk ass makes it through the end of the film without passing out, we can renegotiate.”

“Piece of cake, Fuller.”

…

He cheats, by the way.

Rick and Ilsa haven’t even gotten to the airport yet when Seth’s already kissing her breath away.

She’d stayed true to her word, though.

They don’t make it to her bed.

…

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone liked it! Let me know what you think!  
> This is the first in a series, and if you guys like it I'm thinking about opening it up for request!   
> (Lari, don't judge me! I love you!)


End file.
